The Lost Epilogue of Narnia: The Call
by Chika Hoshi
Summary: A sister who lost her siblings gets a reawakening call for a belief moment. One-shot.


It was two weeks and a few days since the deaths of her siblings, as the brunette stared at the cold black wooden coffins. She couldn't believe this had happen, so much that the pain had started growing at the left side of her chest faster by the minute. The memories when they were children lingered in the cruelest way possible for the remaining Pevensie four. The young woman's mind was swelling up on overwhelming scattered emotions: grief for the fact that she lost important love ones out of her life, loneliness because she knew it would never be the same of being with someone like she would be with her decease family, and worst of all, bitterness since she blamed herself for this.

If she had…if she **hadn't **driven away them away off to their childish paranormal fantasies, this wouldn't have had happen. She knew it wouldn't have. But it was already too late; **far**, **far** too late, so here she was, crying like a little child who lost both her parents. The hours that she spent her alone by herself even after everyone else had left, she couldn't found the strength to pick up her knees off the dirty concrete but more that she didn't know what to do next when she finally can control her excruciating mourning.

She sobbed, and she sniffed with all those tears drowning her once sentimental expression. She intended to be strong when she had first arrived in her simple black dress, but the experience was too much for her to bear. Her feet went numb, while her heart went throbbing not too long when the mourners departed the depressing scene. They couldn't blame the young woman to behave the way she did, but it bothered them to be unable to console her. Her breathing was not right; her eyes—her nose became redden; indeed, it had been too much that they could handle, so as it has mention before, they left her be.

Whether or not she felt anything for their department, it was clear that she wanted warmth of a company or whatever it was from. The woman's shaking body finally drifted to a calmer state, but the sniff was just as debilitating for the past couple of hours. In the oddest and gloomiest time of the next end of the rising action, she managed to egregious chortle at herself: she was amazed how she could cry for this long. The insane sensation was very familiar, and yet she couldn't find exactly where this was coming from.

She asked herself why over and over, but the answer never came like a dream you woke up from fades so fast you weren't able to trace back what had happen. The thought of trying to remember a painful memory only bruised her more and left her forlorn. She couldn't decide if it was crippling her or mocking her, but the brunette was sure that it was important. So important that grasping it was strangely telling her it isn't ready to reveal itself yet. Her eyebrows buried deeper to her skin, while her cold lips frowned quite darkly. She decided her pondering was to resume no more at the meantime.

The last few minutes of stammering cries, she screamed loud as she could have ever heard herself do. It echoed, though only in her mind had it truly did. And it did much so strongly and boldly before she started falling back to the rough ground, panting slowly as she can. She came at her side, her right ear touching the dewy grass. Snot ran down, but she didn't care. Sweat beaded down from her forehead despite the cold weather, but still she didn't care. Her hair is a mess, her dress is ruined—_her _entire body is near to the point it couldn't take it anymore stress, but she didn't care at all, for that at the least of her worries. Instead of caring for herself this time, she did her best to get her hand traveling to the concrete mouthing words for she is speechless. And even if she could speak, she would remain wordless as this feeling was indescribable.

She nodded to herself, agreeing that it was indescribable. The way how it had drowned her into the realms of jaded emotions was honestly hard to pay much attention to. When she ended her mouthing, she let herself rest upon the wet area. She found herself sleepy, and she was more than eager to rest. The last thing that she can remember was a shining light beaming in her eyes. Then, she saw darkness crawling.

…

_W-where am I…? _She asked herself. Her eyes blinked out when a harsh light flashed over her face. She gulped, wondering if she…herself had…

No, she was still alive. She doubled checked. The loud beating of her heart made her realized that she was still a part of this world. It had made her clutch onto the thick sheets of blankets over her.

She jumped, shrieking at herself on what is happening. The room that she was surrounded by is unfamiliar, and scared her when she paid closer attention to the long white gown she was wearing.

She shrieked again, adding a trembling shake when she heard noise coming from a different area. She froze without thinking rationally for a split second. Then once she gathers her common sense, she grabbed the nearest thing to her and started walking to the door. She carefully tried to level her breathing, preparing herself on what's going to happen next and kept her eyes alert. Before she knew it, the sound was louder and louder like it was heading for her direction. Sweat was heating in her grip; she clenched her teeth like she never have.

The door was no longer a barrier.

She screamed.

So did her.

"Blimey, oh my…" The stranger in front of her blocked the broom from hitting her face as her eyes wandered at the fearful woman; she weakly smiled, "My, I see my guest is fully up."

"Who…" The brunette tried to keep herself of getting out of control, "are you…and where exactly am I?"

"Well…"

"Speak." She barked at her.

"You…can call me Phyllis. Phyllis Tomas. You're at my small, but lovely, home after you have collapse at the cemetery. Or perhaps you just planned to take a nap out in the open area, Susan Pevensie?"

She gasped, "How did you know my name?"

Phyllis sighed, pushing her glasses back at the bridge of her nose; her dark brown eyes had a twinkle like she was hiding something. Suspicious Susan studied, carefully at the ebony-haired woman rubbing her forehead and then eyed around the room. It is small as the stranger, claimed to be named Phyllis, had described it to be, but she did admit was cozy looking. Susan licked her lips, trying her best to stay focus back to the person in front of her.

"I read it from the newspapers," She flocked her messy hair over to the shoulders; "Your name was mention from it. It reads 'a twenty-one-year-old sister mourns over her siblings' deaths from train accident.' Though it was no more than two or three lines, I couldn't forget it. I definitely can't forget it now, considering that you were lying on the ground just a few centimeters from their graves."

Silence swooped down; Susan bit her lower lip when the same feeling of agony stabbed right in the throat. Phyllis sighed again, taking her hands into hers. Susan looked up, unsure if it was okay to be an emotional wreck in front of someone she just met.

"Mate, I know things are really bad at the moment," her eyes glint over their hands, "but I know they are in a better place. So…so don't cry anymore, I'm positive that they don't want you to continue to be gutted over them. Jolly good things are waiting out there for you, you just…"

"Look," Susan managed to untie the knot in her throat while pressing her lips tightly around the tip of her tongue, "I appreciate it; I honestly do, but I have to go."

The taller woman stared at her which made Susan give a funny look at her. By the time she had notice this, the corner of her lips slightly bent. She huffed softly, placing her hands on each side of Susan's shoulders. The brunette felt uneasy the way she shook her head lowly before trying to find the words to say. Still, she stayed right there for a reason she couldn't explain why. This stranger, this Phyllis was trying to stop her from leaving. This could have been classified as a threat or kidnapping in Susan's fearful mind.

_Or maybe it's call stubbornness, Susan. _

Susan lost her breath for a split second. She blinked twice. What or exactly—_who _was it had she heard. She could have sworn she was hearing things.

_Rubbish_, Susan blinked her eyes for the third time but tighter. Her eyes traveled back to Phyllis.

"Before you go," The woman sounded like she was almost begging, "…will you at least stay for breakfast? I know must be a long way during the train ride, and I absolutely can't have my guest leave on an empty stomach."

Now that she mentions it, Susan did felt hungry. She had spent so much on bursting into tears that she had not given in the thought or time about eating. Not that it was important anymore, but she did not want to continue lingering here with this…All sorts of memories was haunting her, and even then she hadn't figure what the culprit was. Her stomach roared quite terribly the more that she tried to think; it irritated her further now she is dealing with a smirking stranger by her side. Phyllis hugged over her shoulders, and her hair swayed along.

"I make the best pancakes and sausages, mate." She orated, "I hope you like them, because I have already prepared them at the table. Now let us dig in; we don't want to a cold meal, do we?"

Susan couldn't figure out what the strange woman was planning. She felt alien in this place and yet a part of her felt very much at home. However she still was reasonable and thought this through enough than just to comply. That was when her stomach growled for the second time but louder.

_Blooming crud_, she frustrated thought.

She sighed once more, "You win, Phyllis."

"Oh no," the woman shook her head, "it's far more than just winning, mate."

Susan puffed her lower lip in question, but she didn't further on asking what the strange person met by that. Leaving it as it is, she sat on the chair Phyllis offered.

She carefully held the fork and knife towards to the eggs and then at the biscuit into her mouth slowly. She didn't quite anticipate how well-done the host had cooked, and if she wasn't so ashamed of wanting to leave so badly earlier, she would have complimented her on the food. The way it sank into her teeth, its taste really did felt freshly prepared. Embarrassment built up inside her—the way she probably looked like a little kid who is eating his or her favorite treat; she couldn't help but to hum quietly.

Phyllis smiled eagerly; pleased to see how obvious her guest enjoyed the meal, "So how is it, chap? Anything you think of it, hmm?"

"Blinding," she meekly admitted, "it's been a while since I've tasted something this jolly good."

"I'm happy to hear that," she smiled boldly, "Would you like some milk or tea? I wasn't quite sure which you preferred."

"Milk," she wiped the lower side of her lips with a napkin, "I particularly like milk with biscuits."

She nodded, getting out of her seat to get the Pevensie a glass cup of milk.

"By the way," Susan muffled, "what made you think I was going towards the train? I didn't mention anything about a train."

"You talk in your sleep," she poured the milk down, "you said something like a long train trip. I guess I shouldn't have thought about it too much, but eh."

"I see," she mumbled as if she was saying this to herself while thinking about awkwardly. Within a good distance at the mirror, she could see her cheeks turn bright pink; this was the first time had she thought she had the possibly to have ever sleep talk, and it burns her sourly. It didn't help with the fact the woman straight up blunt it out. Susan didn't know whether she should judge her to be rude or opening honest. Either way, though, it didn't change that she felt extremely embarrass. Her brown eyes glancing back at Phyllis.

Now that she had taken a closer look at her, her skin was quite tan but she also had a light complex. Unlike her seemingly up-beat and easy personality, her dark brown eyes hiding behind her glasses and her messy black hair dull her appearance; she didn't help herself with how she's carrying herself: a dingy T-shirt and ripped trousers. Despite this, Phyllis looked like she could be a little older than her if not the same age. She wondered why someone as young as her would be living in such a rural area instead of getting an education in a more of a metropolis area. She could think of all sorts of reasons, but she would never get the courage to just be blunt to ask.

"Are you okay? You're kind of looking at me funny." Phyllis exclaimed.

Taken back, Susan humbly apologized before thanking her for the cold milk. Phyllis no longer seemed to be concern, and simply went back to her seat. Her fingertips trailed the outer surface of the glass; the Pevensie sighed softly before washing the chewed biscuit by the given drink. Her head backed up, intrigued about the taste of milk. She never tasted milk this enchanting. She licked her lips, as an awakening excitement shivered in her bones. Before either of them had known it, they began talking about or at least Susan had not.

Susan had told her that she was going was studying to be a journalist, and that she had been attending to a jolly nice college in the city. She had even asked Phyllis if she's attending to any school; she merely shook her head and said that she had been home schooled for her whole life. The brunette stared at her like it was odd, but she felt a little guilty for being somewhat rude. Instead, she just changed subjects and asked how long had she been living here; she replied that she lived here a long time and spent her time growing flowers and crops for a living. This, too, made the young woman raise a brow. Susan shrugged that off as well and just assumed that she came from a rural family.

Speaking of family, Susan's eyes trailed around the small house and saw paintings of smiling people of which she guesses it to be family and friends. The ones she could tell that the family had a very great resemblance, especially from a large painting of a group of people, including a younger looking Phyllis in. She complimented her of how she has a nice looking family along with they must have had a very skilled painter to have had crafted for them.

When Susan had mentioned it, Phyllis coughed on her beverage. Susan asked her if she was alright. She nodded before weakly said she was 'dandy'. She had explained the one who painted it went by the name Jack, nicknamed as the painting master. She added that he lives near a beach by an old ruin. Susan mentioned to her she had just studied a couple of ruins in her college before and added how she had a difficult time trying to find researched information on it because had took it before she could.

Phyllis laughed and kindly listens to her explaining how she spent two days trying to get any material to work on. She even seemed interested when the young student had interviewed a few professional archaeologists when she coincidental stumbled over them. She added on that she had nearly twenty pages of material to work on. Because of those interviews, she received the highest score out of the whole class. Susan laughed herself, looking back how tired and lucky she was then; she told the gardener that now she was doing even better then.

Susan never felt this open to someone, let alone to a stranger, for a long time. She couldn't tell where this feeling was growing so much, but she didn't really care. Somewhere in her mind as she continued her conversation, a part of her was more concern and wondered if she could call Phyllis a stranger. The longer she was here, the longer she felt very welcome here; she didn't know whether this should fright her or delight her. All the negative feelings and doubt she was swelling upon seemed to vanish at once, what seemed to be superficial became profound.

Susan sighed tiredly, rubbing her stomach, "Thank you for the meal, Phyllis. Home cooking really hits the spot."-Phyllis welcomed her-"If you excuse me, where is the bathroom and my stuff? I'd like to change…"

"Oh, the bathroom is at the hall on your first right while your stuff had been washed and is now drying outside; it's going to take a while to dry them though. You can borrow some clothes in the wardrobe at the end of the hall. And ah, before you say anything, it's no big deal. I'd be offended if you didn't, dear mate."

Susan humbly thanked her before heading her location. When she looked at the jolly large wardrobe, she noticed how detailed the wood has craved pictures. One was shaped as a lion, and children playing around with it. She instantly had a déjà vu sensation stimulating her entire body before collapsing to her knees. Shaking, she reached for the handle and then grabbing a large light woolen dress. She didn't know why, but her body moved on its own and against her will into the wardrobe. She stepped inside the larger dresser and went pass the hanged clothes, leaving the door open, knowing it is very foolish to shut oneself in a wardrobe.

_For a small home, this wardrobe is simply enormous_, Susan examined while exploring further. She felt hotter than she would like and urged herself to change right in the wardrobe, but that would be odd. Still, she found it to be odd for this weather for the past weeks been cold. It can't become very hot the next _minute_, can it?

She fanned herself, groaning at the troublesome change of temperature. It was rubbish that she even stepping into the thing anyway. She wanted this to be done as quickly as possible when she meets the end of the wardrobe so she can be satisfied and leave willingly.

She tripped, finding herself in a completely different room. She studied the room; it was wide and was made out of a sort airy wood. She looked at the window and saw the view of the ocean in the sunrise. It was pretty sight, making her smile a little.

She quickly changed before anyone could come in. The dress warped around her petite waist perfectly. She was impressed how the dress fitted her as if it was made for her. She didn't want to sound rude, but Phyllis didn't look thin enough to wear such a small size. Maybe it was someone else's. She nodded, agreeing to that possibility.

"Who are you?" A man jumped in screaming.

Susan jumped, screaming herself. Her heart panic and she clutched to her chest tightly before glancing back. He ran towards her, screaming, holding a broom in his hand. Susan ran from him, dodged numerous of times to avoid being hit. Susan couldn't think properly obviously, but she manages from taking a blow. The screaming man strike down in front of her but failed. They breathed slowly; as they both stared at Susan's hands holding the stick.

He was awed, "You must have had lived here before…"

"What do you mean?" Susan mumbled, "I never lived…"

He shook his head, "That's not what I meant; this place…this area…you lived here long ago. You must be Susan, Queen of the Old."

"Those childish games I used to play when I was little? There aren't…you must have misunderstood. I haven't lived here, see, I came from the wardrobe here…see?"

She pointed to the wardrobe.

He chuckled, "Show me then, eh?"

She went back there, opening the door. Her hand landed against a hard wooden surface; Susan jumped again, pushing the items away. The tunnel was no longer there!

Susan was spook and maybe a little horrify; the man merely huffed.

"No need to worry, Susan," he said, "You have plenty of time. I know a way you can get back."-Before Susan could ask how, he lifted one finger-"But you must let me take a memory of you by letting me paint you; it is a price, a fair one if I do say so myself."

Susan didn't know why he had known her name, but deep inside…strangely, she didn't found it strange herself. There was a light in his dark eyes that told her that there was no need to ask poof. She trusted this feeling and agreed that she'll let him paint her: in one condition.

"But you have to at least give me your name." She said firmly.

"It's Jack Spark." He smiled.

It took a couple of hours to paint the female, and she gets tired of standing still; she didn't complain though. While waiting, she did wondered how she'd look like. From the way Jack looked, she hoped he was doing a good job. She itched to move and the intensity grew.

"Try not to sweat, okay?" He said.

"Gee, I'll do my best." She sarcastically commented.

It was another two hours later when she collapses on the floor; she mumbled, apologizing and complaining that she can't take it anymore. The heat was too ridiculous to bear to stand for this long she commented drearily.

"No need," he smiled, "I had finished an hour and a haft ago; I wanted to add in extra details in this captivating masterpiece!"

Her eyes glared at him, "_**REALLY?**_ You made me stand like that for that blooming long?"

He chuckled weakly, "Look at it though; it's a masterpiece!"

He turned it to her way; Susan was speechless. The shade…the color…the portion…they were absolutely perfectly stunning. She gasped, awed by the piece.

He smirked and gloating, "See, didn't I say so?"

She harshly retorted, "Oh hush and listen you wanker; Give me the gen as you promise."

He nodded, "Alright, alright, dear, I'll tell you; up from this house, climb up to the cliff from this place. You have to climb it up, if you don't, it won't happen. Up there, you'll get what is needed for your way back."

"Why won't you take me there instead?" She inquired.

He softly sighed, shaking his head, "I would love to, but sadly, this is as much as I can do for you, milady. I have my reasons why I cannot."

She frowned, looking twice at Jack before standing up and leave. She could tell he was following her to the door, so she gave him final words of departing:

"Will I see you again?"

She didn't need to look to see that he was haft smiling, "Probably not; the time you come back, it might be then I have to leave this world."

She stood there by the doorway for a few seconds before muttering, "Though our time was remarkably short…thank you. I can see why you are nicknamed the painting master."

Before he could say anything, she was gone.

…

Susan climbed up the steep cliff. She never fancies herself to move around this much in a simple but easily moveable dress. It was tougher than it looks as she was experiencing a slight dizziness from being in the sun for long. She was glad that the dress was white; she couldn't stand the heat any more than she already is. Even then however…the cliff wasn't marked off difficult and troublesome but not impossible others would say. She only wished that there was some sort of rope to help her. The sweat Jack didn't want finally ran down to her neck. Yes, she was very indeed glad that the dress was very easy to go around.

Approximately, it probably took her an hour and a haft, the same amount of time she could have used instead of standing around…, to finally reach the peak of the cliff. She lay on her back, leveling her breath. Her eyes drift to the sky, admiring how blue it was. She wished that back home was as blue like this; the sky's aura was cheerful, and the white puffy clouds looked soft enough to sleep on. Moments like these made her wish that she was kid again.

She felt that the sun burned her with shame that she was admitting to this. The sadness patted her, only to remind her from before. Wanting to ease it, her ear touched the ground, listening to the traveling echoing sounds...like heartbeats. It was as though it was alive. She hummed softly, hearing her produced sounds work its way up to her eardrum.

She popped back up when she heard laughing. It was the kind of laughter that comes from children, and the kind that blurred her. There were three awfully recognized figures playing together far off, down from where she was standing.

Her eyes widen.

"Peter…Edmund…Lucy?" She exclaimed, "Is that you?"

As soon as she said that, the children seemed to have heard her and ran laughing as though it was a game of tag. Susan ran herself, chasing after them; she longed for answers, she longed a hope that somewhere, in her insane mind, that…they were alive all this time and had just been a dream—no, a nightmare of their deaths.

Her breathing increased yet again, and a fearful eager sparked in her jumbled thoughts through the glassy land and crowed trees. If she was acting like herself, she would have grabbed her dress up to the side, but she was too caught up with herself that she couldn't care. It was the same sensation she felt with…with Phyllis, only this time she felt unreasonably younger.

Like a child who doesn't want to be left behind, she kept yelling for them to wait.

They didn't.

Susan tripped but didn't hit the ground. She opened her eyes to see her face a couple of centimeters from the dirt; looking back, it was the trees that caught her and gently place her on her two feet. The brunette smiled, thanking the kind trees before storming after the figures.

Soon enough, her feet were tapping against crumble stone.

The figures appeared bigger and bigger which in encourage her to be faster. Susan wasn't able to catch a glimpse any of their faces, but she was so sure that it was them. She also wasn't able to know where she had found this much energy in herself to do. It must be contagious to have her let herself to be this extreme, more so when they had turned to a corner, blocking her view because of the broken wall. Of course, she didn't stop there, and turned herself a few notches. When she had turned to the other side, she stared disbelief on what was to the most outrageously ridiculous thing she probably has ever done and seen in all of her young adult life.

A dead end!

Well…not exactly a dead end, but there was nowhere else to go to. The walls surrounded a three way, and there was only a tunnel right in front of her. The laughter echoed, so she knew that they went in. She ran, even quicker inside. Her footsteps rumbled through the narrow path.

Just then, she saw the figures right before her eyes. The images of them disappeared when she tripped over of the wardrobe and hit the floor with no helping trees from stopping her.

She was startle, and rushed herself to the wardrobe. Its walls were completely solid and no path to walk into.

She looked at herself, seeing how the dress was really dirty then realized that she had left the gown back at Jack's house. She felt guilty and eventually will apologize to her new friend about it by purchasing new ones for her. But first, she ought to change.

She took another dress, somewhat bigger than her original choice before heading to the bathroom. She notices that her black shoes were right beside the doorway, thinking Phyllis had placed them there. Smiling, she took them up and brings them inside the room.

As she turned on the lights, she began undressing herself then secondly washing her face and drying before putting on the soft long black dress. She knew she was exhausted, and yet for some reason, wanted to take a walk. She tightens her shoes on, sighing.

She blinked strangely when the lights flicker. It flickered faster to the point no light penetrated. Something had made her trip, causing her to fall over the rough dewy ground. When she opened her eyes to know what's going on, she found herself at the same ceremony her siblings were buried at. She looked around herself, in denial. It couldn't have, no it couldn't be…

She lifted the edge of her dark dress; it wasn't hers.

"Susan," a voice said, "I know you loved your brothers and sister…, but I also know they wanted you to be happy, not piteous. You've been here more than enough, sweetheart."

She turned to see her boyfriend sweetly and patiently waiting for her to respond. She mumbled alright to him, comprehending that it was time to leave them be; if she had not have the writer to tell this story for her, it would have remained untold to anyone at all.

Sadly, she let a tear fall down her cheek, remembering her time of the now forsaken land that was once used to be named Narnia. She sighed for the last time of this epilogue. The call coming from her thoughts made her realized how lost she have become.

* * *

**A/N: Well, this happens to be my first Narnia fic and first fic that isn't a manga/anime. **

**I wrote this because something was bugging me after I finished watching the second Narnia movie. Actually, a lot of things was bugging me, but the person who bugged me the most was Susan so...that's why she's our protagonist for this little tale! To give me some satisfaction for some sort of closure for her. But I understand if you don't like it because it should be the individuals that imagines what happens to the story after it's over and everyone had different thoughts on what should happen...this fic probably won't be taken well...I'm quite aware of that. If you have any problems, please explain clearly and carefully rather than just being blunt. That won't help me as a writer. And if you don't want me to continue writing...well too bad! Negative comments won't stop me from writing.**

**Oh, and I'm not British, so if I made any mistakes on any British terms or culture itself...feel free to correct me. ^^;**

**I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING. Except Phyllis and Jack. Obviously they're OC...Oh which reminds me, I know their introduction was pretty brief and may have made you feel their story should have more ground to explore, but I have no intentions of continuing this fic to do so. Maybe in another different story...but that would probably be for a long, long, time. Or never, who knows. **


End file.
